The doorbell rang. My freshly washed hair was wrapped in a large green terry-cloth turban. My naked face looked haunting (to me anyway). But I answered the door anyway. The last time I hesitated answering the door, a bouquet of roses greeted me on the other side. No such luck this time. It was a young man about 29. He stood on the steps just off the porch. He was dressed in a finely tailored suit with dark blue shirt and red tie (I think). He was canvassing the area in search of clients for his investment firm. I almost laughed when he greeted me with his firm handshake. I had nothing to invest. But he seemed so nice, I didn't have the heart to tell him. I accepted his brochure and listened as he explained where his new office was going to be located. I kept thinking about how awful I looked and how this guy didn't even seem to notice I had a turban on my head. I answered all his questions--including those about where I was from and how in the world did I get to Oklahoma from Kentucky.
Turn about was fair play I figured, so I asked where he was from and how long he'd lived in Lawton. As it turned out, he lived about a mile from me. Bells went off in my head as I answered him about what my husband did for a living. "Custodian, part-time. He's on disability. Heart attack a year ago today." (Surely he'll stop talking now and be on his way.) Nope. He continued to ask other questions. I continued to ask some too. I told him about my church that was just down the street. I shared how wonderful they had been to us when my husband suffered his heart attack. That's when I blew it.
I didn't ask him if he went to church anywhere. My brain was saying, "Ask him...ask him." But I didn't ask if he'd like to come to church. I didn't ask if he knew about the "retirement plan" of everlasting life. I didn't even hand him a tract in return for his fancy brochure. He asked for my telephone number and I gave it. He wrote down my address. He thanked me for taking time to visit with him and went on his way. I was really mad at myself when he left. I realized that I was more concerned about the condition of my appearance than this man's spiritual condition.
How many times have I asked the Lord to bring someone in my path that I could share Jesus with? I don't get out of the house much--mostly to babysit my grandkids and go to Wal-Mart and the gas station. I don't see many folks. And here God brought me someone and I let the moment slip on by. I hadn't planted one seed for which the Lord could water for days ahead. Nothing would grow from my words.
Today I received a thank-you card in the mail from that man. Again he thanked me for allowing him to share about his business and he offered to help me if I needed help with finances. I smiled but inwardly I felt sad.
"Lord, why did I let that moment pass? Why didn't I ask him if he'd like to know about You? What silenced my tongue?"
As I ponder those questions tonight, I still wonder. What closed my mouth? It's times like this I wonder about myself and my love for the Lord. It's times like this I realize how small I am in His kingdom. It's times like this I understand Peter's denials. It's times like this I am ashamed of me. I truly am. selahV
[copyrighted, SelahV Today, 2008]
